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Thread: The REST of the story to "sometimes lady luck comes my way"

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    Default The REST of the story to "sometimes lady luck comes my way"

    Please read the previous post "sometimes lady luck comes my way... in the form of a double broomer" to get the start of the story.... The REST of the story goes like this....

    Now for the REST of the story. With one ram down and swat8888 busy cleaning the sheep, it was my turn to do some hard hunting. In his previous story, the "Ram that vanished in the snow" was a ram I have been after for two years and affectionately named nemesis. He is a BEAST. SUPER DEEP and WAY WIDE. If you took your arms and stuck them out of your head a person would resemble the giant. So... back after him the next day while swat888 cleaned up the bruiser he smashed with two great shots. (By the way.... his shot at the range at 350yards with my .300 win Mag Cannon was an inch and a half low and half and inch left. I still have the target. It just looked like a long way due to the magnification on the telescope I have on it, never the less he way shooting where he wanted) Well i plan to go right back where we came from the day before to get a jump on Nemesis. It was rainy, every 5 min i was standing inside a cloud, super windy.. to sum up miserable. On top of it NO SHEEP. None. Not a one. What the heck I thought... there were loads of sheep everywhere yesterday. As I sat on the ridge top, through the clouds, I saw something bookin butt down a VERY steep slope.. right where Nemesis escaped to yesterday. My heart started racing until I made out a grizzly coming down from the heavens. He was running full speed and was no doubt chasing away my rams before I had gotten there. So back down the valley I went. That night it got cold but clear. In the morning I was rested and had made up my mind that it was the day to cover some ground. My mind was set on a route that I had taken the previous year. After rounding the East face of the mountain we were hunting, peaked a ridge which began the north face. The north face was a series of 3 progressively elevated alpine valleys. As I peaked over the into the first one I saw no less than 40 lambs and ewes. How was I going to make it past all those sheep without sending a chain reaction up into the next two higher valleys? THE WHITE SUIT! I had read about these white suits but dismissed them as being a last ditch effort to close distance. So I donned the wet full length suit and walked right smack dab down and up the other side of the valley. Everyone moved to a range of about 200yards and stood there staring. Dang, I thought, this suit works pretty well. Up into the next valley I went. There on the far face were 6 rams. 2 of which were close to legal and with closer inspection probably were. It was too early to settle for anyone but Nemesis. Again I had to cross this valley to get to the next and highs valley. So Again I walked right through it with all 6 rams not even batting an eye! As I crested the into the 3rd valley I was searching high and low.. where I wasn't searching was right in front of me. BAM! 20 yards in front of me a 7/8 curl staring a whole in me. I froze solid. Without a worry in the world he turns away from me and starts eatting again. Wow I thought! This white suit is amazing. I thought.. well i think I will just follow in this sheep's footsteps and he will take me to the honey hole! As I followed him at about 20 yards i glanced to my right and there hunkered down behind a boulder was a young ram, but infront of him just off a drop off was TWO MASSIVE sets of horns. I could only see the top half but they were heavy. Immediately I dropped on my but and slipped off my pack. For the next 3 hours I sat motionless looking at two THICK sets of horns through the binos at a range of 70 yards. In that 3 hours I was in pure heaven. What I didn't realize or could see was about 8 other mid size rams all within 50 yards. They would work their way close and then bed down again. All would look at me and dismiss me as one of the boys in the band. At one time a lamb and ewe made their way up the same path I had taken. The lamb was no more than 2 yards to my right. I could see the individual hairs and the little poofball on his head. So close I could hear the munching as he grazed past me. I felt like I had my own virtual 3D Nationial Geographic movie. Well... in that three hours I got great views of the two bruisers that were 70yards below me. The first... who finally stood up broomed on his left. "Yes! Just turn and show me that broomed right side" I thought. He finally did and he was NOT broomed but very very close to full curl. I got one great view... then another... and another. He was sooooooooooooo close, but I was not 100% sure so I made up my mind to let him live another day. The second bruiser was way deep and wide.. he will never reach full curl due to the path of his growth. I clearly counted 10 growth rings... but due to a hunting partner getting pinched for counting rings last year, I was not leaving the aging process to someone at fish and game. *remember this part later in the story* After the three hours I am surrounded by sheep everywhere but I realize it is time to get one down or I gotta head back. I am about 5 miles from camp and I have to go down 600feet, up 200, down 600, up 200, down 300 and then one more mile of gradual incline. With that realization made, I turn to my right... ALL THE WAY to my right. I turned so far I was cutting the blood to my brain. Directly behind me at the top of the ridge, standing on a rock pedistal, looking out from his throne was a nice sheep scanning off into the valley. He looked like my english setter pointing a grouse. The bright sun was reflection off the snow background so all I could see was a silhouette. What a sight let me tell you. It was an amazing sight! The problem was..... all I could see was the silhouette. I couldn't see the overlap of his horn and head which would allow me to determine if he was full curl. Right then he turned an locked on to me. From the straight on angle I could see him reach full curl and then flare out to the side. "THIS IS IT" I told myself. I slowly turned my head back to the front and eased my range finder out of my pocket. I turned again and zapped him with the lazer... 259 it said.. at a steep angle. PERFECT. A chip shot for my 6.5-284. As I ranged him though he was looking a little spooky and starring me down. I slowly rotated my head back to my front, put down the range finder and spun the turret on my scope to 245 yards. My plan was to lie all the way backwards so my back was flat on the slope, high leg over to a prone position and taste the taste of blood. There I encountered a problem. A ROCK! A sharp rock that was situated right on my spine! The only way I could get to a prone position would be to get up with significant amounts of movement and lye back down. On to plan B. The only other way I could get pointing directly backwards and up hill was to lean as far back and right as I could, with a knife sharp rock stabbing into my back and look upside down, uphill. A quick mathematical adjustment in ballistics for an upside down shot when through my head. I adjusted the scope back to zero and leaned back into a terribly uncomfortable position. The best way to describe my position is if you put your butt on the very edge of your seat, lean back so your shoulders are against the backrest, place your left fist on the top of the back rest, aim a rifle over your left shoulder with your fist resting on the elevation turrete of the scope(so the riffle is upside down), lean your head all the way back and shoot directly behind you and up at about 20degrees. Dispite the Annie Oakley position, I was pretty darn stable. I waisted no time and about 5 seconds after getting the cross hairs on his front shoulder I released the hand loaded 130gr accubond at 2900 ft/sec. With in an instant the horns that where facing skywards were replaced by feet. Dropped! I stood up sore from not moving for close to 3 hours with the tastes of sheep blood in my mouth(figuratively) .... wait a min... that isn't sheep blood really taste blood(literally). As I look down I see blood rushing to the ground, pouring off my chin. What the hell I thought as the adrenalin started to ware off and the pain in the middle of my forehead appeared. Now my sheep rifle is 4 and one half pounds with a 10oz scope, the laws of physics results in a pretty darn good kick, a kick where if you don't have the butt square in the shoulder(like if you were shooting upside down over your left shoulder) would leave a nice scope bite... That is exactly what happened. Ouch. Did I care? NO WAY! So if you see a guy walking around fairbanks with scope bite in the middle of his forehead instead of over his eyebrow.... That is me! So after this sheep got hammered and I stood up gushing blood the other sheep did NOTHING. The didn't move or care. I still had on my magic white suit which was quickly turning red. I made my way up to inspect my trophy. There he was wedged in the little eddy of shale below his look out. Head downward on loose shale! Ah my luck! After a quick inspection to verify the legality of his horns, I started the butchering process. Where I started and finished were not the same place as we slide about 40 yards down the steep shale slope during the duration of the process. With the moving target and unstable footing I put some nasty gashes in my hands with the havalon surgical blades. Eventually I had everything packed up and headed back. I felt good, making good time but moving carefully. After the long 4 miles off the 3 valleys I turned the corner to the east side of the mountain for the home stretch when.... whoa..... the world started spinning. "Okay Greg" I told myself "You have one more cliff bar with you, you are getting hypoglycemic, time to eat" it was about 1030pm at this time. So I did and I drank and rested. 1 mile of easy walking to go! I got up and everything went sideways again as I almost lost my balance. At this point I knew I was in rough shape and was closing in on a medical emergency. I FELT HORRIBLE! Dizzy, nauseous and sweating I unloaded the meat into a stream to keep cool and spread the cape over a rock. With the lightened load I stumbled about 1/4 mile before I saw my partner on the skyline. I flashed him with my head lamp and he made his way to my position. He shouldered my gear back to camp where I mixed a whole pack of gatorade into about 5oz of water and slammed it, and crashed like I never have in my bag. The morning we hiked back and recovered my sweet succulent meat and hard earned trophy. The way out was uneventful and smooth. Days later I reported to get the horns sealed... butterflies flew in my stomach due to being at the mercy of some stranger who holds all the power in her hand! Without much scrutiny the sealing official determined full curl and went about business of recording the measurements and dismissed us. I asked if I could write down the stats off the paper she carried the official said "of course". I copied down the measurements and was surprised to see that the ram was 6 years old. She told me that the ram was 6 years old which was very young to be harvested. I then nicely asked if I could receive a lesson in aging the sheep. The sealing official was glad to show me the intricacies of the growth rings and how the horns grow. While doing so she naturally counted the rings again while simultaneously pointing them out to me... 7 and a half years old she counted... Wait a min... It was just 6 years old, 5 min later it aged a year.. hmmmmmmmm.... let that be a lesson to everyone! We got back to fairbanks and I was greeted by my parents from WI and my 3 year old who gave me endless amounts of bear hugs. We then set up an assembly line of meat processing and got everything cleaned and sealed in no time flat. Great Hunt, and great memories forever. Only to be eclipsed by next years hunt!

  2. #2
    Member GD Yankee's Avatar
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    What an awesome write up! Can't wait to see the pictures. All the great sheep hunt stories this year are pure motivation to plan, train and work on a hunt next year. Thanks to everyone who has posted their hunts.

    CONGRATULATIONS.

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    Made bigger and broken up so us older guys can read it..Great hunt story! Thanks for sharing.

    Now for the REST of the story. With one ram down and swat8888 busy cleaning the sheep, it was my turn to do some hard hunting.

    In his previous story, the "Ram that vanished in the snow" was a ram I have been after for two years and affectionately named nemesis. He is a BEAST. SUPER DEEP and WAY WIDE. If you took your arms and stuck them out of your head a person would resemble the giant. So... back after him the next day while swat888 cleaned up the bruiser he smashed with two great shots. (By the way.... his shot at the range at 350yards with my .300 win Mag Cannon was an inch and a half low and half and inch left. I still have the target. It just looked like a long way due to the magnification on the telescope I have on it, never the less he way shooting where he wanted)

    Well i plan to go right back where we came from the day before to get a jump on Nemesis. It was rainy, every 5 min i was standing inside a cloud, super windy.. to sum up miserable. On top of it NO SHEEP. None. Not a one. What the heck I thought... there were loads of sheep everywhere yesterday. As I sat on the ridge top, through the clouds, I saw something bookin butt down a VERY steep slope.. right where Nemesis escaped to yesterday. My heart started racing until I made out a grizzly coming down from the heavens. He was running full speed and was no doubt chasing away my rams before I had gotten there.

    So back down the valley I went. That night it got cold but clear. In the morning I was rested and had made up my mind that it was the day to cover some ground. My mind was set on a route that I had taken the previous year. After rounding the East face of the mountain we were hunting, peaked a ridge which began the north face. The north face was a series of 3 progressively elevated alpine valleys. As I peaked over the into the first one I saw no less than 40 lambs and ewes. How was I going to make it past all those sheep without sending a chain reaction up into the next two higher valleys? THE WHITE SUIT! I had read about these white suits but dismissed them as being a last ditch effort to close distance. So I donned the wet full length suit and walked right smack dab down and up the other side of the valley. Everyone moved to a range of about 200yards and stood there staring. Dang, I thought, this suit works pretty well. Up into the next valley I went.

    There on the far face were 6 rams. 2 of which were close to legal and with closer inspection probably were. It was too early to settle for anyone but Nemesis. Again I had to cross this valley to get to the next and highs valley. So Again I walked right through it with all 6 rams not even batting an eye! As I crested the into the 3rd valley I was searching high and low.. where I wasn't searching was right in front of me. BAM! 20 yards in front of me a 7/8 curl staring a whole in me. I froze solid. Without a worry in the world he turns away from me and starts eatting again.

    Wow I thought! This white suit is amazing. I thought.. well i think I will just follow in this sheep's footsteps and he will take me to the honey hole! As I followed him at about 20 yards i glanced to my right and there hunkered down behind a boulder was a young ram, but infront of him just off a drop off was TWO MASSIVE sets of horns. I could only see the top half but they were heavy. Immediately I dropped on my but and slipped off my pack.

    For the next 3 hours I sat motionless looking at two THICK sets of horns through the binos at a range of 70 yards. In that 3 hours I was in pure heaven. What I didn't realize or could see was about 8 other mid size rams all within 50 yards. They would work their way close and then bed down again. All would look at me and dismiss me as one of the boys in the band. At one time a lamb and ewe made their way up the same path I had taken. The lamb was no more than 2 yards to my right. I could see the individual hairs and the little poofball on his head. So close I could hear the munching as he grazed past me. I felt like I had my own virtual 3D Nationial Geographic movie.

    Well... in that three hours I got great views of the two bruisers that were 70yards below me. The first... who finally stood up broomed on his left. "Yes! Just turn and show me that broomed right side" I thought. He finally did and he was NOT broomed but very very close to full curl. I got one great view... then another... and another. He was sooooooooooooo close, but I was not 100% sure so I made up my mind to let him live another day. The second bruiser was way deep and wide.. he will never reach full curl due to the path of his growth. I clearly counted 10 growth rings... but due to a hunting partner getting pinched for counting rings last year, I was not leaving the aging process to someone at fish and game. *remember this part later in the story*

    After the three hours I am surrounded by sheep everywhere but I realize it is time to get one down or I gotta head back. I am about 5 miles from camp and I have to go down 600feet, up 200, down 600, up 200, down 300 and then one more mile of gradual incline. With that realization made, I turn to my right... ALL THE WAY to my right. I turned so far I was cutting the blood to my brain. Directly behind me at the top of the ridge, standing on a rock pedistal, looking out from his throne was a nice sheep scanning off into the valley. He looked like my english setter pointing a grouse. The bright sun was reflection off the snow background so all I could see was a silhouette. What a sight let me tell you. It was an amazing sight! The problem was..... all I could see was the silhouette. I couldn't see the overlap of his horn and head which would allow me to determine if he was full curl. Right then he turned an locked on to me.

    From the straight on angle I could see him reach full curl and then flare out to the side. "THIS IS IT" I told myself. I slowly turned my head back to the front and eased my range finder out of my pocket. I turned again and zapped him with the lazer... 259 it said.. at a steep angle. PERFECT. A chip shot for my 6.5-284. As I ranged him though he was looking a little spooky and starring me down. I slowly rotated my head back to my front, put down the range finder and spun the turret on my scope to 245 yards.

    My plan was to lie all the way backwards so my back was flat on the slope, high leg over to a prone position and taste the taste of blood. There I encountered a problem. A ROCK! A sharp rock that was situated right on my spine! The only way I could get to a prone position would be to get up with significant amounts of movement and lye back down. On to plan B. The only other way I could get pointing directly backwards and up hill was to lean as far back and right as I could, with a knife sharp rock stabbing into my back and look upside down, uphill. A quick mathematical adjustment in ballistics for an upside down shot when through my head. I adjusted the scope back to zero and leaned back into a terribly uncomfortable position. The best way to describe my position is if you put your butt on the very edge of your seat, lean back so your shoulders are against the backrest, place your left fist on the top of the back rest, aim a rifle over your left shoulder with your fist resting on the elevation turrete of the scope(so the riffle is upside down), lean your head all the way back and shoot directly behind you and up at about 20degrees. Dispite the Annie Oakley position, I was pretty darn stable.

    I waisted no time and about 5 seconds after getting the cross hairs on his front shoulder I released the hand loaded 130gr accubond at 2900 ft/sec. With in an instant the horns that where facing skywards were replaced by feet. Dropped! I stood up sore from not moving for close to 3 hours with the tastes of sheep blood in my mouth(figuratively) .... wait a min... that isn't sheep blood really taste blood(literally). As I look down I see blood rushing to the ground, pouring off my chin. What the hell I thought as the adrenalin started to ware off and the pain in the middle of my forehead appeared. Now my sheep rifle is 4 and one half pounds with a 10oz scope, the laws of physics results in a pretty darn good kick, a kick where if you don't have the butt square in the shoulder(like if you were shooting upside down over your left shoulder) would leave a nice scope bite... That is exactly what happened. Ouch. Did I care? NO WAY! So if you see a guy walking around fairbanks with scope bite in the middle of his forehead instead of over his eyebrow.... That is me!

    So after this sheep got hammered and I stood up gushing blood the other sheep did NOTHING. The didn't move or care. I still had on my magic white suit which was quickly turning red. I made my way up to inspect my trophy. There he was wedged in the little eddy of shale below his look out. Head downward on loose shale! Ah my luck! After a quick inspection to verify the legality of his horns, I started the butchering process.

    Where I started and finished were not the same place as we slide about 40 yards down the steep shale slope during the duration of the process. With the moving target and unstable footing I put some nasty gashes in my hands with the havalon surgical blades. Eventually I had everything packed up and headed back. I felt good, making good time but moving carefully. After the long 4 miles off the 3 valleys I turned the corner to the east side of the mountain for the home stretch when.... whoa..... the world started spinning. "Okay Greg" I told myself "You have one more cliff bar with you, you are getting hypoglycemic, time to eat" it was about 1030pm at this time. So I did and I drank and rested. 1 mile of easy walking to go!

    I got up and everything went sideways again as I almost lost my balance. At this point I knew I was in rough shape and was closing in on a medical emergency. I FELT HORRIBLE! Dizzy, nauseous and sweating I unloaded the meat into a stream to keep cool and spread the cape over a rock. With the lightened load I stumbled about 1/4 mile before I saw my partner on the skyline. I flashed him with my head lamp and he made his way to my position. He shouldered my gear back to camp where I mixed a whole pack of gatorade into about 5oz of water and slammed it, and crashed like I never have in my bag.

    The morning we hiked back and recovered my sweet succulent meat and hard earned trophy. The way out was uneventful and smooth. Days later I reported to get the horns sealed... butterflies flew in my stomach due to being at the mercy of some stranger who holds all the power in her hand! Without much scrutiny the sealing official determined full curl and went about business of recording the measurements and dismissed us. I asked if I could write down the stats off the paper she carried the official said "of course". I copied down the measurements and was surprised to see that the ram was 6 years old. She told me that the ram was 6 years old which was very young to be harvested. I then nicely asked if I could receive a lesson in aging the sheep. The sealing official was glad to show me the intricacies of the growth rings and how the horns grow. While doing so she naturally counted the rings again while simultaneously pointing them out to me... 7 and a half years old she counted... Wait a min... It was just 6 years old, 5 min later it aged a year.. hmmmmmmmm.... let that be a lesson to everyone!

    We got back to fairbanks and I was greeted by my parents from WI and my 3 year old who gave me endless amounts of bear hugs. We then set up an assembly line of meat processing and got everything cleaned and sealed in no time flat. Great Hunt, and great memories forever. Only to be eclipsed by next years hunt!


  5. #5

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    very well documented greg. nice job. glad it all worked out for you and ryan. you guys very much deserved any and all success you had. i would still mount him. he's awesome.

  6. #6
    Member Smokey's Avatar
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    Creative people find solutions - nice shot!
    When asked what state I live in I say "The State of Confusion", better known as IL....

  7. #7
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    What a great story Greg. Congrats on an awsome sheep.

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